Dr. Morton recoiled at the thought of torturing the beautiful young girl before him.
"Are—you willing—to have your blood transfused?" he parleyed.
"No—no—no!" she cried in horror,
Dr. Morton turned to the desperate criminal. "I cannot do it."
"The deuce you can't!" A cold steel revolver pressed down on Dr.
Morton's stomach. In the other hand the master crook held his watch.
"You have just one minute to make up your mind."
Dr. Morton shrank back. The revolver followed. The pressure of a fly's foot meant eternity for him.
"I—I'll try!"
The other crooks next carried Elaine, struggling, and threw her down beside the wounded man. Together they arranged another couch beside him.
Dr. Morton, still covered by the gun, bent over the two, the hardened criminal and the delicate, beautiful girl. Clutching Hand glared fiendishly, insanely.